


Necromancy

by Taliax



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Ectober Week 2018, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: Danny may have a lot of experience with death, but accepting the death of his best friend is still beyond him.  For Ectober Week 2018 on tumblr.





	Necromancy

**Author's Note:**

> @ everyone following me for my KH fics that I haven't updated in forever: I'm sorry

_"Sam!  Sam, can you hear me?  Sam!”_

He knew he shouldn’t shake her shoulders.  He shouldn’t move her at all; she would be in shock, after taking a hit like that.  In shock.   _He_ was in shock, wasn’t he?  Seeing her charred skin through the hole in her shirt, the thin trail of blood dripping down her lips, the blank gloss to her violet eyes -

_Shock.  I don’t have time for shock._ He wouldn’t be feeling it if he was still Phantom, he was sure, but now he was just Fenton, useless, useless _Fenton,_ because he’d used the Wail on Ember and Skulker - why did it have to be _both_ of them?  He could handle either on their own, or even Skulker and Technus, but now he hadn’t known - he hadn’t known Skulker was lurking in the background, how could he have known?  Just because he _had_ said they were dating -

He shook his head, trying to disperse the frantic, useless thoughts.  It didn’t matter how they’d gotten here.  He could kill himself over this later.  Right now it was _Sam_ who was dying, who wasn’t responding to his touch, his words, her eyes just staring sightlessly up at the starry night.

“Sam… you’ll be okay, you’ll…”  His voice choked off into a pathetic sob.  She wasn’t a ghost.  She couldn’t just shake off one of Skulker’s ectoblasts like he did.  Particularly not one that should’ve been targeting him.

One designed to kill.

His shaking hands lingered on her arms before attempting to find her pulse.  Was it just his fingers trembling, or was that her carotid artery throbbing weakly?  He couldn’t tell.  This was Sam’s field of expertise - or at least competence.  She was always the one checking him for injuries, not the other way around. Even Tucker was better than him, but he was away at a tech camp for the week.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut.  Bit back another sob.  Sam was going to be alright.  Sam was always alright.  Even when she risked her life to help him, day after day, week after week…

_I should have known.  I should have…_

A police siren in the distance shook him from his thoughts.  Could they help Sam?  Could a hospital?  She wasn’t half-ghost; unlike him, she could use a normal hospital.  He just had… had to get her there…

_Sam, your parents are going to kill me,_ he thought with a hysterical, shaking chuckle.   _Better me than you, though._

He took one more deep breath hoping it would calm him - it didn’t - and then felt deep for his core.  It took a stronger mental _tug_ to transform, after draining his energy with the Ghostly Wail.  The white ring around his torso shuddered for a second before splitting and enveloping him.

With his ghost form came a wash of cold, and a wash of clarity.  Colors became sharper, scents more pungent, sounds more piercing.  If there had been many sounds, anyway - he could only hear his own ectoplasm-pumping heart and the faint whistle of wind through the trees.  He knelt over Sam, pressing his ear to her chest, not caring how awkward that would have been if she were awake.

No stirring of air in her lungs.  No heartbeat.  No… no life.

Sam was gone.

_Dead,_ his mind nagged him.   _You’ve been dealing with death for two years now.  You should know better than anyone to accept it._

That wasn’t true.  He was the only one who could be dead and _not_ accept it.  But Sam… she wasn’t… she couldn’t…

“Sam… it’s okay, it’s okay, sometimes this happens, right?  People just pass out, and… and they can be revived, like with CPR or electricity or…”

_Shock._ He was Phantom; he shouldn’t be affected like this.  Physiologically, anyway.  Mentally…

_Just get her to the freaking hospital, you idiot!_

His breath came in short gasps as he scooped her up in his arms - limp, dead _-_ unconscious - _dead -_ and he floated into the air.

That should’ve been it.  He should’ve flown to the hospital, as fast as humanly (ghostly?) possible.

But he just _had_ to see his breath again.  In the middle of August.

“You’re freaking kidding me,” he muttered, head already swiveling.  “I don’t have time for you!  Get lost or I’ll skip the thermos and blast you right into your after-afterlife!”

It was a testament to just how screwed up his life was that he could even manage a witty threat, under the circumstances.  He should be freaking out.  He _was_ freaking out.  Sam, unconscious - _dead -_ he couldn’t handle.  But ghosts trying to kill him?  That was normal.

At least it would be, if ghosts _were_ trying to kill him.  But no one appeared to taunt him back.  Either the ghosts were getting smarter, or… he didn’t know.  As Phantom, he could see invisible ghosts when he focused.  There wasn’t anywhere to hideaway the top of this hill; his Wail had destroyed the trees and stage, where Ember had been holding a “secret” concert before he and Sam had broken it up.  

_Sam…_

Forget the ghost sense; he had to get help.  He turned to fly towards town, when -

_“Danny?”_

He looked down at the soft, uncertain voice.  “ _Sam_?”

It had been her voice; he’d know it anywhere.  But the form in his arms was as motionless as before.

_“Danny… what are you… what are you holding?”_

This time, he processed that the voice was coming from behind him.  He swiveled to face - nothing.  Nothing, but a swirling pool of blue mist.

He recoiled, jetting back over the edge of the hill.  “I don’t know what kind of ghost you are, but stay back!  I’m leaving!”

Ghost fighting could wait a few minutes, a few precious minutes while things were looking worse and worse for -

_Sam.  Oh -_ OH -

The mist rose and coalesced into just what he was afraid of.  Because, if that was Sam - if that was Sam -

“No,” he whispered, hovering back to the ground.  

The mist finally took full form.  It - _she -_ had bright white hair, just like his, and he couldn’t help noticing how her usual gravity-defying ponytail now flickered like a tiny flame.  Her skin glowed a faint blue, the same color that had crept into her eyes.  Eyes that were staring at the body he held in his arms.

She cursed.

“Sam, I-” He what?  What could he say?   _I let Skulker catch you from behind and now you’re a freaking_ ghost?  He must be having a nightmare.  Maybe Nocturne was back.  Ghosts weren’t supposed to materialize this quickly after death, anyway, and - and Sam _wasn’t supposed to be dead!_

“I’m dead.  Holy-”  Another stream of curse words his parents would have washed his mouth out with soap for saying.  “I’m.  I’m a _ghost._ Put - put my body down Danny, oh, this is weird, this is so weird…”

“Don’t freak out!”  He yelled, as if he wasn’t freaking out himself.  He set her - her _body -_ down, ran a hand through his hair, tried to look calm.  For her, he could do that, even if he couldn’t do it for himself.

“Sure, let me think about that for a second.  Oh yeah, I’m _dead!_ I’m allowed to freak out!”

“You - maybe you’re not all the way dead!”  He threw back.  She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms, just the way she would have in real life.  If this was a dream, it was way too realistic for his liking.  “I mean… you _are_ dead.”   _That_ hurt to admit out loud.  “But we can - we can fix this.”

“ _How?_ Do your ghost powers include necromancy, Danny?”

“W-well… no, but…”  He looked down at the body on the ground.   _Her_ body.  Jeez, this was weird.  He considered pinching himself, in case it was a dream.  Not that it would’ve helped, since he’d taken plenty of hits from Ember tonight…

Sam’s ghost - _Sam,_ it was still her - was still floating there, waiting for an answer.

“You could try possessing your body,” he said with a wince.  It wasn’t his best idea, but it couldn’t hurt, right?  Most ghosts didn’t materialize until after their bodies would’ve decayed, so - theoretically - there was no reason it _couldn’t_ work, unless her body was damaged beyond repair -

Sam looked like she was trying to take a deep breath, but it didn’t do much.  Regular, non-halfa ghosts didn’t have lungs.  At this stage, it looked like she didn’t even have ectoplasm yet; her translucent form shifted and shuddered with each gust of wind.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll give it a shot.”

She floated forward, placed her hand on her body, and phased inside.  Danny held his breath, expecting her eyes to flutter any moment, for her to smile in relief, probably punch him, and then let him carry her home like nothing had happened.

But life didn’t work like that, apparently.

After a few breathless moments, Sam’s ghost phased out of her body again.  This time, she looked even paler than before, if that was possible.

“No go.”  She shook her head.  “It was - it was dark in there,” she murmured, voice shaking where her body didn’t.  Danny remembered how his parents always said ghosts couldn’t feel emotion.  Their ectoplasmic bodies didn’t carry the same kind of physical reactions that humans did, but her voice… she was terrified, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as if that would mean anything.  It was his fault - all of this - and she… and she…

Sam cursed again.  “Don’t cry, Danny.  I can’t cry. It’s insensitive.”

That might have been a joke.  It was hard to tell, under the circumstances.  Either way, she was right.  He wiped his damp eyes on his sleeve, but a few tears still escaped and dripped down onto her body.

Her body.  How was he going to explain this to her parents? Even two years after the accident, they didn’t know about her ghost fighting.  They didn’t know how many times a week - a _day -_ she put herself in danger, just for him...

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  Useless.  “It’s my fault - you didn’t even see it coming, Skulker was aiming for me, and you-“

“ _Danny.”_ She put her hands on his shoulders.  That was what he saw, even though he didn’t feel anything.  That was weird.  In his ghost form, he should have been able to feel her unless she was purposely going intangible.  Unless it was a side effect of her lack of ectoplasm? Come to think of it, he’d never actually _met_ a ghost without ectoplasm, it was all just his parents’ theories -

He shook off the tangential train of thought when Sam started talking again.

“Look.  I’ve _always_ helped you fight ghosts.  I could have died a million times before now.  I - I knew this could happen.”  She looked away.  “I mean, I didn’t expect to actually _become_ a ghost… Whatever.  The point is, I’m still here.  This is the best-case scenario, right?”

_The best case scenario was you_ not dying!  But he didn’t say that.  She was trying to stay calm for him; the least he could do was the same.

“I… yeah.  Yeah,” he said weakly, though he didn’t believe it.  There _had_ to be a way to fix this.  There had to.  If he could hold a ghost and a living form together inside him, then why couldn’t she?  Maybe if he just took her body back to the lab, had her help him patch her up -

“You’re getting an idea,” Sam said, her voice dubious.

“Yeah,” he admitted, the gears in his head still turning.  The lab.  There had to be something there that could -

_That’s it!_

“Come on,” he said with a hopeful grin, more meant for her benefit than his.  “This idea’s better, I promise.”

Maybe, just maybe, everything could be fine after all.

XXX

They phased through the ceiling of the lab.  Sam didn’t even have to try; her form still ignored any kind of resistance.  She did shiver when she passed through solid matter, though, and her ponytail flickered fitfully.

“Are you going to tell me what your plan is now?”  She asked.

“...Let’s fix up your body first,” he said.  He wasn’t _technically_ stalling - they did need her body in better shape if this was going to work - but she didn’t call him out.  Odd.  Sam wasn’t one to -

“Sam?”  He asked, looking up from where he was gathering the medical equipment.  She was hovering over by the ghost portal, head tilted back, eyes closed.  Almost as if she was… basking in it.  

“I could use your help over here,” he called when she didn’t respond.  “You know how to treat ectoblast burns, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice drawn out oddly.  “Yeah.  Right.  Don’t you?”

He did, but he didn’t like the way she was acting around the portal.  Something was just… _off._ It was probably normal for a full ghost, but still.

“Could you just come make sure I don’t screw up?”

She reluctantly hovered over to him.  As it turned out, it was a good thing he’d asked; he nearly used the ointment for regular burns rather than ectoblast burns.  It was hard to distinguish when every product started with “Fenton.”

“Not that it matters,” Sam said.  “No heartbeat, no brain activity, no healing.”

Danny’s mouth drew to a thin line.

“We’ll see.”

He left her hovering over her body and floated towards the storage closet.  What he needed would still be there; his parents never discarded an invention, no matter how apparently useless.  Or dangerous.

Sam didn’t question him as he dug through the closet and heaved out the device he needed.  He’d expected some kind of reaction - positive or negative, he wasn’t sure.  But he quickly saw why.

She was floating by the portal again, her hand nearly reaching out to touch it.

“Sam!”  He shouted, startling her back.  “What are you doing?”

“I don’t-“ she shook her head, then glared. “Why?  I’m a ghost, it’s not going to - wait, what are _you_ doing?”

He just gave a sheepish grin and heaved the Fenton Ghost catcher upright.

“Oh, no, _no._ Danny, are you _crazy?”_

“I’m _not_ crazy,” he insisted.  “It put my ghost and human halves back together.  Why couldn’t it do the same for you?”

“Because, Danny, I’m _dead!”_ She shouted back, hands clenching to fists at her sides.  He stared back at her, wincing under her gaze, until she finally looked away.

“Look, I just… Why are we doing this?”

Danny blinked.  It was the last question he’d expected her to ask.

“You said it yourself, Sam.  You… died, and I-“

“And _you,”_ she emphasized.  Her voice was quiet this time, calmer than it had been before.  “ _You_ want me back.   _You_ want me to be human again.”

“Well - yeah!  That’s what you wanted too, isn’t it?”  He stared, but she remained silent.  “Do you… do you _want_ me to let you die?”

Surprisingly, she didn’t snap back at that, didn’t tell him he was being ridiculous.  She just turned to look towards the ghost portal, with its swirling green energy.  

“I can feel it, Danny,” Sam whispered.  “I’m not like you.  I’m not even like a normal ghost, not yet.”

She looked down at her hands, the pale, translucent blue that they were.  Reluctantly abandoning the Ghost Catcher (for now), Danny hovered over and sat next to her in midair.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not finished yet.”  She passed her hands through each other, watching as they dissolved to mist when they touched.  “You noticed, right?  I don’t have ectoplasm yet.  I came back too fast.  And I think I know one reason why.”

“...Why?”  He asked nervously.  Her eyes fixated on the portal.

“Ghosts normally form _inside_ the Ghost Zone, don’t they?”

“Well… I don’t know, really, no one’s ever _seen-“_

“I can feel it,” she repeated, almost as if in a trance.  “I didn’t want to believe it at first, but I felt it as we got closer.  It’s… it’s calling me.”

“Well don’t listen to it!”  Danny snapped, more forcefully than he meant to.  He tried to hold her shoulders, tried not to panic when his hands again misted through.  “Come on, Sam!  You want to live, don’t you?  You have a life, a family, friends, a _future!_ You were going to apply to college!  You were going to influence people, make a difference-!”

“Plans… plans change, Danny.”  She murmured.  “This isn’t a choice.  You can’t just _choose_ not to die.”

“Maybe you can!”  He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe she’d just - just _give up,_ accept being a ghost when there was a chance, a possibility, _right there_ that they could fix this -

“Please,” his voice cracked.  “Try.  Just _try._ For… for me.”

It was selfish.  He didn’t care.  If she was thinking straight, she would agree with him.  She’d want to live, _here,_ not trapped in the Ghost Zone, not as a fragment of the wonderful friend she was.

Sam paused, took one more look at the portal, and then nodded.

“Alright.  One more try, but… don’t get your hopes up.”

Danny flipped the switch on the Ghost Catcher, and green light spread across its white webbing.  Its gentle hum masked the frantic throbbing of his heartbeat.

Sam hovered up to the merge side, and her legs briefly flickered into a ghostly tail.  She didn’t seem to notice; she was too busy peering through the Ghost Catcher’s webbing.

“It won’t hurt,” Danny promised, carrying her body up to her.

“I’m not worried about that,” she said.  “This just… doesn’t feel right.  Wouldn’t your parents know if they’d invented something that could basically make you immortal?”

Danny hadn’t thought of it that way.  “It’s my parents we’re talking about.  If anyone could accidentally raise the dead, it would be them.”

“...You’ve got a point there.”  Sam tried to sigh, but no real breath came out.  “Alright.  Let’s see if they’ve done the impossible.”

Danny nodded.  “I guess I’ll just… toss you through?”

“Sure.  Just be sure and catch me on the other side.”

He could do that.  He just hoped it was all of her he’d be catching.

He scooped up her body from the lab bench, not caring when ointment smeared from her back onto his suit.  It hadn’t seemed to do much for her, but that was to be expected.  They wouldn’t know if it helped until she passed through the Ghost Catcher.

“Ready?” He asked, and she nodded.

“On three,” Sam said.  “One… two… _three._ ”

Muscles tense with anticipation, he threw Sam’s body through the ghostly webbing.  He couldn’t take the time to see if her ghostly form had made it through too.  Barely breathing, he flew around to the other side just in time for her to collide with his chest.

He floated to the ground, his tail splitting back into legs as he touched down.

“Sam?”  He asked, gently shifting her body in his arms.  “Are you in there?”

Her eyes were still open.  Still glassy, sightless.

And then they blinked.

“...Danny?”

“ _Sam!”_ He pulled her close, nearly crushing her in his hug.

“Whoa there… I need oxygen again, in case you were wondering.”

“Heh.  Sorry.”  He rested her on the ground and rubbed the back of his neck.  “How do you feel?”

She rubbed her back - he skin still looked charred, and her shirt was ruined, but the ointment was glowing now.  Usually when it came to his parents’ inventions, that meant it was working.

“...Fine, actually.”  Her voice sounded like she hardly believed it herself.  She rubbed her hands together, as if expecting them to phase through each other.  “For having just been dead, anyway.  I could still use about a dozen ibuprofen.”

Danny laughed, though he knew she was being serious.  He just couldn’t believe - it had actually _worked._ He’d wanted to believe, but here she actually was, alive again, sitting in front of him.

She laughed a little too.  “It’s weird.  I still feel like I should be… nevermind.”  She shook her head.

“What?”  He asked, but she didn’t offer an answer.  She just gazed off towards the ghost portal again.  Probably thinking about how she would’ve been trapped there, eventually, if not for this crazy mixture of technology and luck.  He could imagine it.  He remembered the day of his accident, the paralyzing terror at thinking he’d… well. He wasn’t dead - not all the way - and neither was she.  That was what mattered.

“Let’s just… let’s just get you home.”  Maybe then they could both get some sleep, if his still-pounding heart would let him.  Or maybe he’d wake up and this would all turn out to be a dream after all.

“Yeah.  Sounds good.”  Sam looked towards the ceiling, stretching up and concentrating as if - he had to hold back a laugh.  She wasn’t trying to _fly,_ was she?

“You want some help there?”  Maybe he shouldn’t have teased her after such a traumatic experience, but laughing about it was easier than processing it.

She grumbled something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Just take me home, you moron.”  Her grin softened the insult.  Grinning slightly back, he scooped her up and floated towards the ceiling.

_It’s okay.  She’s okay.  Everything’s okay._

Just before he phased them through the ceiling, he noticed one last thing that made him question his calming mantra.

As she cast one last glance towards the portal, her eyes glowed bright blue.

 XXX

xxxxxx


End file.
